


Bedtime Story

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Incest, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, peters age not specified
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Tony catches Peter sneaking out of the house





	Bedtime Story

**Author's Note:**

> I basically just made this in a forum for a chance to try a short story - which isn't something I make often. No real plot just a bedtime story for some friends so I figured why not share?

“Where are _you_ going?”

Peter scowled, already in a shitty mood because he was late. And now it was even worse, because he’d thought sure his dad had already gone to bed. He’d listened to the noises from the room down the hall, and had heard the shower, had heard the toilet and had listened to him argue with his wife – Peter’s mom – over the phone about her being a bitch and sneaking off to a weekend with her girlfriends and leaving him home to deal with Peter.

Peter had had every intention of not making him deal with him at all, if he could avoid it. But apparently, he couldn’t. He turned to look at his dad, who was dressed only in a pair of pajama bottoms, his chest pare and his expression annoyed enough to be a match for his own.

“Nowhere. Just getting some fresh air.”

“Your room has a window. _Open_ it.”

“Fresh air _with my friends_.”

“Did you ask your mother?”

“I’m old enough to not need permission.”

His irritation was making him just a little reckless, and he knew immediately that he’d crossed the line. His father’s jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened.

“You’re not too old to have your ass beat, young man. Watch your tone.”

Peter hesitated, his tongue moistening his lower lip, uncertainly.

“You wouldn’t.” 

Tony Stark felt a surge of fury go through him. The little sonofabitch! Challenge him? In his own home? Bad enough that his mother was gone – and threatening to make that absence permanent. His own son was going to push him? No. That wasn’t going to happen. Not in a million fucking years, and certainly not when the whelp was living under his roof. Before Peter had a chance to even realize what was happening, Tony crossed the distance between them and grabbed the boy’s wrist. Peter hadn’t caught his full growth, yet – probably wasn’t even close – so Tony didn’t have any trouble latching onto that handy grip and yanking the boy off his feet.

“You think not?”

Peter yelped as he fell, but Tony didn’t let him land on the hallway floor. Not all of him, anyway. He headed for his bedroom, dragging the boy behind him, and ignoring his protests and his struggling.

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I please, Pete. Don’t you ever think otherwise. You understand? I’m so fucking sick of your snide looks and your bullshit.”

“Dad!”

“Shut up.”

Tony’s voice went down an octave as Peter’s steadily rose. He felt another surge of emotion go through him, but this time it was excitement at the way his son struggled against him. A gauntlet thrown at his feet, and a challenge accepted. Only the boy didn’t stand a chance.

He dragged him into the bedroom and looked around, but finally decided to sit on the bed, dragging Peter over his lap until he was head down on one side of Tony’s legs and ass up on the other.

The boy squirmed, but Tony held him easily with one arm pinning him.

“I _wouldn’t_?” he repeated, face red with fury rather than exertion. “You're damned right, I _would_.”

His hand came down across the boy’s ass, the sound muffled by the denim of his jeans. Peter flinched and yelled, trying to escape, now, even more.

“Stop! Please!”

It wasn’t enough. The anger wasn’t going to be assuaged by slapping his jeans. Tony tried a couple more swats, though, just to test it, ignoring the protests and the way Peter fought him. No. It wasn’t enough. Tony reached for the waistband of the jeans and yanked at them. Luckily, Peter was one of those kids that wore his jeans a size bigger than needed and not those ridiculous skinny jeans. The jeans came down, baring his son’s ass, and Tony froze, so surprised that he almost lost his grip on the boy – who had suddenly gone still.

“What the fuck?”

There weren’t boxers under his son’s jeans. Not briefs, either – although Tony knew that’s what he’d bought him for Christmas the last year.

“Dad! Let me up!”

Peter’s face was red, from hanging upside down, or because he knew what his father was seeing. The thong was bright red, and frilly, and silk.

“Are you fucking _kidding_ me? What-“

“Let me go!”

The boy tried to take advantage of Tony’s shock and free himself, but the older man’s hand automatically clamped down on his torso.

“Are those your _mother’s_?” Tony asked, jerking the jeans down even lower and lifting the boy off his lap enough to bring them down to his knees before pulling him firmly against his lap once more.

“No. Don’t be disgusting. Let me go! Before I call her and tell her what-“

“Before you call her and tell her you’re wearing women’s clothing?” Tony asked, feeling the fury once more. He brought his hand down, sharply, right on the bare part of one of Peter’s cheeks and the boy yelped, writhing now, trying to get loose. “She’d _love_ that, wouldn’t she? Then you two can go shopping together.” 

His hand came down again with a satisfying slap, and Peter cried out, now frantically trying to free himself, his body struggling on Tony’s lap, rousing more than just anger, suddenly.

“Dad!”

Tony looked down at the boy, suddenly aware of just how fucking pretty he was. His mother’s big brown eyes, and his own pouting mouth. He tightened his hold with the left hand and brought his right hand up to his mouth and licked it with his tongue, wetting it before he slapped it down on Peter’s ass once more.

The cry was amazing. Arousing and exciting in every way that Tony could describe in his mind. He spanked him three more times in rapid succession, each blow harder than the last. Tony splayed his big hand on his son’s ass cheek, which was now almost as red as the thong he was wearing. He looked down at his boy, who was sobbing, now, but still struggling, weakly to escape.

The wriggling body had had an effect on Tony. He was achingly hard. Or maybe it was a combination of that wriggling and the sight of the firm young ass.

“Lesson learned?” Tony asked, harshly, grinding himself up against his boy’s pelvis, pushing him down against his throbbing cock.

Peter moaned, unable to catch his breath enough to do more than bring his hand up to try and cover his rear and protect it from any more blows.

“Answer me!” Another slap, and another cry of pain.

“I’m sorry!”

Tony growled.

“You’re not sorry, yet. But you _will_ be.”

“Please…”

Tony stood up, the boy still in his grasp. He turned and tossed him onto the bed, belly down. Peter squirmed, trying to get away, but his legs were tangled in his jeans and he didn’t make it more than a foot or so. Only enough to infuriate Tony, who brought his hand down on that already agonizingly sensitive ass. Peter yelped, again.

“Dad!”

“Don’t you even think of moving,” Tony said, dangerously. “I’ll beat your ass until you can’t move. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Please. I’m sorry!”

Tony stripped the jeans lower, but didn’t bother to take them off. When they were around the boy’s ankles, he lifted his hips and maneuvered his knees in between Peter’s, forcing his thighs apart a little. Not much, but more than enough.

“Such a pretty red ass. How did I miss that?” he said, softly. Running his palm along Peter’s flaming skin, enjoying the way the boy flinched every time he squeezed his ass.

“Please…” Peter moaned, his head drooping, his face buried in the bedspread. Fear, excitement or shame making the boy tremble under his father’s touch.

Tony didn’t care which it was.

A quick jerking motion tore the thong enough to leave it hanging off Peter’s hip and Tony spit on his hand and ran it along his son’s crack, finding his hole. Peter yelped, again, the sound muffled, when his father shoved his finger into his ass, driving deep and hard enough to shove the boy’s upper body further into the bedding.

“You're so tight, Peter,” Tony practically crooned, spitting again and adding another finger, working him with one hand and slapping his ass every time the boy made any kind of noise that even sounded like a protest with the other. “One would think you’ve never been fucked before.”

His hand slid around the boy, though, and found his cock, hard and drooling precum.

“This, however, makes me think that you want to be.”

“Please… Dad…”

“Are you begging me?” Tony asked, harvesting precum from his son’s cock and using it to wet his tight hole. “You’re ready to show me what you can do for me? How you can please me?”

Peter looked back over his shoulder, and he closed his eyes but leaned his body back against his father’s touch. Tony grinned, and caressed the lovely ass presented to him.

“Good choice,” he said, pulling down the front of his pajamas, freeing his cock, which was harder than he could ever remember it being. Throbbing and eager. He ran the head along Peter’s crack, spitting in his hand a few more times, not so much to keep it from hurting, but to make it easier for him.

Then, without any more warning than that, he pushed himself into the boy’s tight ass. The first thrust forced his cock past the tight ring of muscle, which squeezed him, amazingly. The second hilted him balls deep and the boy cried out, the sound only partially muffled.

Tony grunted, his hand going to Peter’s back to hold him down while he pulled back and then slammed into him, again. And then again.

“You like it?” he goaded the boy, reaching up and grabbing a handful of hair to pull the boy’s face out of the bedding. “ _Do you like it?_!”

“Yes…” Peter whimpered. “Please.”

Tony made an approving noise and let his hair go, bringing his hands to Peter’s hips and holding him, tightly, as he found his rhythm and started slamming him.

“It’s going to be you and me, Pete,” he said, fucking his son harder, and harder still. “We’re going to spend a lot of time together – just the two of us. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The boy keened, and Tony slapped his ass, hard.

“Say it!”

“Yes! Yes! I’ll love it!”

Tony rammed into the boy so hard the bed shuddered, and he came, filling Peter’s ass with thick, hot cum before he collapsed on top of the boy, biting his shoulder while he caught his breath. Peter was breathless under him, trembling and whining, tears streaming down his cheeks and into the bedspread. Tony finally pulled out with a satisfied noise, and slapped that lovely ass, once more.

“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping for more of that lacy underwear,” he told his son and he pulled his pajamas back up over his cum-slicked cock. “Then you can show me just how well you can use that smart mouth of yours. Understand?”

Peter nodded, unable to do more than agree.

“Yes…”

“Good.”

Challenge thrown down, and triumph complete.


End file.
